


I Think I've Broken Something

by skittenninja



Series: Whumptober 2020 [12]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Arthur Pendragon Has Trust Issues, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Trust Issues, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittenninja/pseuds/skittenninja
Summary: Whumptober 2020 Day 12: In his final moments, Arthur reflects on all the people who have broken his trust and on the person he trusts most.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949905
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	I Think I've Broken Something

It was probably a bad sign that Arthur was used to it by this point, and by ‘it,’ he meant complete and utter betrayal.

He couldn’t quite place where it started. With his father, perhaps. The man he’d looked up to for so long, who he had tried to emulate in every aspect of his life. Coats and swords and words and beliefs that all belonged to him because all Arthur ever wanted as a child was to _be_ him. He seemed so invincible upon the throne, polished armour and a shiny crown hiding all the red on his hands and all the deaths that would forever tarnish their name.

Somewhere along the way, Arthur became disillusioned to this idea of his father as a perfect king, though he would always regret that he was already knee-deep in blood by the time he finally woke up.

Maybe it was the way he was so hellbent on ruining everything Arthur had built for Camelot even as a ghost, several of his loved ones nearly dying in the process. Maybe it was when he completely gave up on trying to be a king after Morgana left, a broken shell of a man that dumped all of his responsibilities onto his son, because Arthur had always been a legacy and not a child to him. Maybe it was when he discovered that Morgana was his sister, that Uther had been lying to both of them all these years. Secretly, a hidden part of him believed that his father seemed to shield her from the worst of the burdens Arthur had to bear as a ruler by doing so. Maybe it was when the story Morgause had told him about the nature of his birth seemed to make far too much sense, even after Arthur had been told it was a lie. Maybe it was even before then, when he was willing to let Gwen die or when he tried to crush the only hope of saving a poisoned Merlin in his hand.

There was never just one moment with his father. That was what made his case so complicated.

Then there had been Morgana herself, someone once so full of love who had grown to despise him. Arthur was never really sure why she did what she did, and he thought that maybe Morgana herself didn’t even know. It had been a rather slippery slope from justice to power, after all, and sometimes Arthur pretended that there was a world out there where she looked him in the eyes without contempt.

She had once told him to do whatever he thought was right, and damn the consequences. It just turned out that for her, this meant killing innocent people and hurting the ones he loved. So, her eventual death was less of a blow, because Arthur had already mourned the Morgana he knew many years before.

He didn’t like to think about what happened with Lancelot and Gwen. He had promised himself not to, and with Gwen by his side again, it was never really her face he saw in that horrible memory. It was always Lancelot, and Arthur loathed the fact that he would die not knowing why one of his closest friends did what he did. Why he’d done the unthinkable, then taken his own life shortly after.

The man who’d died then seemed to be a stranger compared to the one who’d sacrificed his life to save the world, and Arthur could never make the two versions meet in his mind.

What happened with Agravaine always made Arthur the angriest, not just at his uncle but at himself. There were so many red flags that hindsight made crystal clear, but he’d been so desperate to have someone help him fill the role he hadn’t been ready to step into that it was easy to be blind to it all.

Another part of him had felt like maybe that was the closest he could get to his mother, too. Agravaine was her brother, and he had known her better than Arthur would ever be able to. His uncle had been a tether to a person whose life had ended as soon as Arthur’s had begun, and he couldn’t take the idea of losing not only his last living family member, but the one connection he had to a mother he never met.

Agravaine’s alliance with Morgana had made it clear that he blamed Arthur for Ygraine’s death. Arthur hadn’t been able to cope with the fact that his own uncle believed the same truth he’d held in the back of his mind since childhood.

Then there was Merlin, who Arthur didn’t consider to be on this imaginary list of people. Not anymore, at least.

The words “I have magic” were not ones he had ever thought would come from Merlin’s mouth, something he had been taught to hate and fear above all else being intrinsically linked to someone so integral to his life.

Arthur hadn’t wanted to believe him. Even more than that, and much to his own regret, he’d been scared. The list of names had piled up in his head, all the times he’d been lied to and manipulated and hurt screaming at him from inside, and he had panicked.

Merlin was not on that list anymore, and Arthur hated that he’d ever considered it.

This was the man who had put himself in harm’s way after only just a couple days of knowing him, a duration of time where neither of them got along. This was the man who continued to do the same thing over and over again for the next several years, more times than Arthur could count and, as he recently discovered, more times than he even knew about. This was the man who walked into every battle with him, determined to stay by his side without a sword and with a gift he could only use at the risk of his own safety. This was the man who was braver than anyone Arthur had ever known, and who never sought credit for any of it.

This was the man who was there for every laugh, every joking insult shared. Every story and every tragedy and every heartbreak since they’d met. Every close call and every escape and every victory.

This was the man who was holding him as he died, begging him to stay.

And so, this was the man he trusted until his dying breath.

“Thank you.”


End file.
